More than a Moment
by blue artemis
Summary: Hermione is promoted to a mysterious department in the Ministry. What does this have to do with Rabastan Lestrange? This is a gift for Gryffindor Witch.


The Ministry always had a few secrets, and some were bigger than others. There was a small note in the charter, an even smaller department in charge of making certain that small note was enforced.

Hermione Granger was working in the Ministry library one day when she noticed a woman among the stacks, in pale blue robes, with her face covered. Unable to contain her curiosity, she followed the woman to a previously unnoticed set of doors at the far end of the library.

She slipped in the door behind the woman before it closed. She looked around, amazed at the many miniature family trees covering the walls.

"Welcome to the Department of Genealogical Longevity, Miss Granger. I will send a memo up to Magical Law Enforcement informing them of your promotion immediately." The woman in the blue robes waved her wand and did exactly that. "I'm Mrs. Steward, director of the department."

Hermione goggled at the woman as a pile of pamphlets materialized in her hands. She did not say a word when she was led to a spacious office which was covered in even more of the miniature family trees.

"Here is your desk," said Mrs. Steward. "Get acquainted with the material, and come to me with any questions."

"I have one right now," Hermione replied, finding her voice.

Mrs. Steward just looked at her with her head cocked to the side, waiting for the question.

Hermione took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. "Why was I given this job?"

"Because you can see the forest for the trees, dear." With that cryptic statement, Hermione's new boss walked out the office door, presumably heading for her own.

Hermione sat and read, not only because she had been directed to by her new employer, but because she was curious.

_Unbelievable__. __There __is __an __entire __department __set __up __to __make __sure __all __the __old __families __don__'__t __die __out__._ She was delighted to realize that "pure" blood was only a political designation. As long as there was a magical issue to continue a bloodline, neither name nor purity mattered. Teddy was just as important to the Blacks as Draco was.

There was something quite interesting about the position she held, though. She pulled some parchment out of the desk and started to write a few equations. _Carry the three, consider the Ingus... Oh, this can't be right._ She mused over her discovery, then realized why there only seemed to be one person working here at a time. "No. No bloody way!"

Although Hermione's cry was not meant for anyone, Mrs. Steward's voice carried down the hallway. "Forest for the trees, dear. Forest for the trees."

Sunday dinner at the Burrow was usually contentious. It was rare that Hermione was the one who was upset, though. Everyone was present, from Harry, Ginny and Ron to every last Weasley and their plus ones. Most of them were quite interested in the fact that Hermione had been hired by the Longevity project. It was one of those things that the purebloods all seemed to know; the type of institutionalized knowledge that generally caused her no end of frustration. But although they all knew of it, none of them knew how you got a job there or what inspired the project.

"They find someone who they believe is compatible and basically hire them to find the best way to continue the fading line. Ninety-seven percent of the employees of the department end up marrying the people they are assigned to! I can't be––"

"Is it a job requirement, Hermione?" asked Percy.

"No, not as such," she said.

"Then you don't have to marry anyone. It doubles your salary. So what's your problem?" Percy grinned at the looks he got. His family rarely thought he could be the voice of reason.

Hermione stared at him, her brow furrowed in consternation. "Nothing, I guess. I just didn't like the implications."

"So, who is your project? No one is quite sure how anyone ends up in that department, but we all know what you do," said Arthur.

"Rabastan Lestrange," she said. "I didn't realize he was so young. He was born in 1966, and was only fifteen when his brother dragged him along to attack the Longbottoms. He had just finished his OWLs."

"Dragged him along?" asked Harry.

"Yes. By all the medical exams and evidence he gave once Bellatrix and Rodolphus died, he was a reluctant participant. He has formally apologized to Neville, and has used a significant part of the monies he inherited to fund Alice and Frank's care," she replied.

Neville nodded, effectively silencing any protests.

"What is your plan, love?" asked Molly.

"I think I'm going to send him a letter asking if he wishes to take his NEWTs. That should be something to work on. And I know we need to make sure he is clear of any curses. Rodolphus seemed to be on par with his wife, but Rabastan is a bit more of an unknown. And I need to study up on wizarding culture. That was a big part of the information in the pamphlets," Hermione trailed off as she started to plan. She rummaged through her bag to get something to write notes on.

An unexpected voice cut into her musings. "You can use the library at Longbottom Manor," said Neville. "It may not be as good as the Malfoy library, but we have a lot of books on traditions, and well, there's Gran, of course."

Hermione bounced over to Neville and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, grinning when her actions made him blush.

"Hands off my fiancé!" Ginny joked with Hermione, pretending to swat her with a pillow.

"Don't worry, Gin. As much as I love Neville, I wouldn't poach," Hermione answered.

"I know you wouldn't, Hermione. I'm curious, though. I keep expecting Ron to explode over there, but he hasn't." She gestured with her hands toward her brother who was sitting quietly in a corner. "I mean Harry has Luna to keep him calm, but Ron?"

Ron's face flushed bright enough for everyone in the room to see it.

Hermione smiled at all of them. "I know why, but I'm not saying." She looked down at her watch. "Ooh, look at the time! I promised Mrs. Steward I would be at the office in five minutes!" She walked out the door, ignoring the protests and requests for information coming from the assorted Weasleys.

Hermione had no intention of heading back to work. She just didn't want to be in the middle of the uproar at the Burrow. She knew she needed to study up on her manners, and although she thought she might take Neville up on his offer, she already had another lead on how to learn pureblood traditions quickly. She got to the Apparation point, and turning on her heel, popped to her next destination.

"Mistress, Missy Bushy-hair is waiting in the foyer," said Ninny the elf, bowing her head after she spoke.

Narcissa hurried out toward the foyer. She had been intrigued when Hermione had contacted her shortly after her new assignment to the Longevity project. "Miss Granger," she said, after collecting herself. She tilted her head elegantly and held her hand out to the younger woman.

"Mrs. Malfoy," replied Hermione, imitating the posture and taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly but not hard.

"Well done, dear. I don't think our lessons will be too difficult. What do you need to know, really? The few occasions when I was able to observe you recently did not show any deficiencies in you manners."

Hermione smiled at that statement. "Thank you. What I need is to learn the old traditions. Not only the what but the why. I know there must be reasons." She looked up at Narcissa's sharply indrawn breath. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, dear, not at all. But before we commit to anything, I need to make sure you know what you are asking," Narcissa said.

Hermione looked at her questioningly.

"Follow me, Hermione. I need to explain what your request meant. I also need to have Lucius and Draco involved in the discussion," she said as she led her guest into the drawing room.

Hermione sat on the very comfortable sofa in the drawing room watching and listening to her hosts. They were very animatedly debating the implications of what she had asked.

"Lucius, this will be our salvation!" Narcissa said, waving her hands around rather inelegantly.

Lucius shook his head. "But we will be at the mercy of Miss Granger. Once she finds out what she asked, she could go ask someone else. It will just be our hopes raised for nothing, Narcissa. I would rather not tell her and send her on her way."

Hermione was watching their interplay intently, trying to figure out what they might mean when she felt the cushion next to her dip.

"I hope they throw you out on your ear, Granger," whispered Draco, as he sat next to her.

She was very startled when he suddenly ended up on his arse on the floor.

"You're an idiot, Draco. I may be betrothed to you because Daphne refuses to get close enough to touch you, but _my_ family has the better caché right now and you will listen to me. If your father gets his head out of his arse and listens to your mother, your family will have the possibility of not only being part of the new order, but playing host to it. A traditional patronage and the creation and nurturing of a new House will put everything on its ear and make the whole thing fashionable again. The old families will be certain that traditions will be upheld and the Muggle-born will find a way into society. There is no Dumbledore to stop it! So if you can't think of anything smart to say, keep your mouth shut!" Astoria Greengrass nodded at Hermione, and pointed her wand at her betrothed. "Ginny Weasley taught me her Bat-Bogey Hex. And I'm good at it. Don't make me show you."

Draco eased his way back onto the sofa and nodded. He brushed up against Hermione then jumped. He looked from her back to his fiancée, not certain which witch was more dangerous.

_Patronage__?_ Hermione thought quickly, running through the pamphlets she had read through. _I __imagine __these __people __believe __themselves __to __be __emulating __the __greatest __of __the __Romans__, __or __the __Medicis __or __something__. __But __it __sounds __like __this __is __institutionalized__. __I __must __have __triggered __the __whole __thing __unwittingly__... __seems __like __I__'__ve __been __doing __that __quite __a __bit__, __lately.__" _She smiled to herself. _Time __to __throw __a __wrench __in __their __plans__._"Excuse me." She waited for them to turn to look at her. "Neville offered his family's library. I could always go ask his Gran, as he suggested."

Narcissa blanched for a second, then regained her composure and stared daggers at her husband.

Draco crammed himself into the corner of the sofa when Astoria jabbed her wand into his side.

Lucius took a deep breath, and glancing at his wife, nodded then spoke. "Miss Granger, although Augusta Longbottom has the depth of knowledge you need and the political caché of having been on the right side of the war, the Malfoys can offer you a breadth of knowledge. We can certainly offer you a wider set of acquaintances, and a more balanced look at the social niceties."

"Nothing about what it would offer you?" she asked with a wry grin and a cocked eyebrow.

"I thought that would be crass, my dear," Lucius responded. "Astoria was correct. We could make patronage fashionable again, teach the old traditions to new blood. Dumbledore did his best to interfere, thinking that the old traditions were what caused much of the strife, but he was incorrect."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "Why do you say that?"

"The Dumbledore family was never able to gain a patronage. Neither boy was particularly handsome or charming or able to get themselves past their father's transgressions. What no one knows is that one of those boys who attacked Arianna was the squib son of the local landowner. He had many witches and wizards in his family and was jealous. His father had the wealth and connections in the ministry to get Percival Dumbledore put in Azkaban," said Lucius.

_That __explains __quite __a __bit__._ Hermione shook her head when she realized that all the Malfoys were staring at her. "So, why would my choosing a patronage with your family make such a difference? And what did I say to trigger this, in any case?"

"You asked a member of one of the Ancient houses about the old traditions, not only the what but the why. A true interest in the backbone of wizarding life is a request for a patronage," explained Astoria. "About 500 years ago, Alexander Greengrass, a Muggle-born, was given a patronage under the Potter family. That was when we became our own House and began to prosper."

"Did the patronage mean you or yours wouldn't act against anyone in the Potter line?" Hermione was curious.

"No, not formally. We had the means of opening sales routes into the continent, which the Potters needed. They had the contacts in the Ministry to make it easy. It was a true patronage, wins for both sides," Astoria said, then smiled and folded her hands into her lap.

Hermione considered her options. Augusta Longbottom would be the safer choice, but Hermione rarely did safe, at least not since meeting Harry Potter. She realized that she could make a huge difference in wizarding society by taking the Malfoy's offer of patronage. For the House of Malfoy to be instrumental in creating the House of Granger would be momentous... Hermione laughed at herself internally, her grandiosity was amusing. It would be a start in making a difference, in any case. "I accept your offer, Mr. Malfoy."

Narcissa smiled and clapped her hands. "Wonderful, Miss Granger! We shall contact the press to make the announcements. We will begin our history and tradition lessons tomorrow."

Hermione blinked. That was quicker than she expected. "I will contact Mrs. Steward at the Ministry to let her know," she said.

Lucius chuckled, making her turn to look at him. "Considering your new position, she will be pleased, and you will be considered to be at work while you are learning what you need to know."

"I'm certain you are right, Mr. Malfoy, but I believe the notification should still come from me," she answered.

Hermione wasn't the least bit surprised to find that Lucius knew what the response would be to the fact that she had taken a patronage. She was more than a bit surprised that the news caused even more than the normal furor.

"Why is this so surprising?" Ron asked the gaggle of reporters who stopped him one day. "Hermione loves to learn. Now she gets to learn all of the history and traditions from people who know them well. And she gets to teach them that Muggle-borns aren't so bad, just like it used to be, before Grindelwald and Riddle and everyone thought it was a bad thing to mix properly." He cocked his head to the side a bit, thinking of the right words to say. He smiled and continued,

"Probably because they couldn't get anyone to be their patron so they could start their own Houses."

Since the most volatile of the Golden Trio couldn't find fault, they pretty much gave up trying to make it something nefarious. Although they took great delight in trying to decide what the new spate of patronages might mean for society.

Rabastan Lestrange had been sitting on the balcony at home in Lestrange Manor when the owl from the Ministry flew up and startled him. He untied the letter from the outstretched leg and sat back to read it.

After reading the letter, he set it down and began to pace. He paced from left to right along the edge of the balcony. He knew as well as everyone else what the Longevity project managers did. He also knew, due to the experience his Great-Aunt Losila had as one of those managers that those chosen weren't only open-minded and compatible, but they would do anything in their power to ensure the continuance of the lines they were supposed to protect. It was why so many of them ended up married to the subjects. He tried to recall what he knew of Hermione Granger. Other than her hair, he couldn't think of anything.

He liked the fact that she offered to help him get his NEWTs. His grandmother had always stressed the importance of being fully qualified. He went into the study and found some parchment and a quill. He quickly penned his acceptance for the course of study, and after a thought, decided to ask to meet. _If __I__'__m__ going __to __end __up __fathering __children __with __her__, __I __might __as __well __get __to __know __her__._

When Hermione received the missive, she showed it to Narcissa, as she had been instructed regarding any social invitations or requests.

"Thank you, Hermione. We will have to set up a meeting as soon as possible. Since this is directly related to your employment, what do you think of a tea or picnic?" Narcissa asked.

"That seems a bit informal, doesn't it?" Hermione was confused. This seemed to go against everything she knew of political meetings.

"He is your Longevity project. At the very least you will need to be friends. This will facilitate that," said Narcissa.

Three days later, Hermione showed up at Malfoy Manor at 9AM, dressed for a picnic on the grounds. As it was warm, she was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white eyelet peasant shirt with a pale green ribbon in the neckline. She had a nice pair of light green gladiator sandals on, completing her look.

"You look lovely, Hermione. I think Mitzy can find some ribbons to weave into your hair that would match your outfit," said Narcissa when she walked into the sun room that had become their meeting place.

"This isn't too Muggle?" Hermione had dithered over her outfit for a while before deciding to be comfortable for the first meeting.

"It suits you, which is the best thing to do, dearest." Narcissa smiled reassuringly.

They planned out the menu, and a bit of the conversation while waiting for Rabastan to arrive. Shortly after 10AM, Lucius walked a handsome red-haired man into the room. "Ladies, may I present Rabastan Lestrange, the scion of the the Lestranges."

Rabastan bowed to both women, making them smile in response. "Lucius, Narcissa, may I escort Miss Granger to the picnic area? I'm certain we have many things to talk about before our luncheon."

The Malfoys gave their assent. Rabastan held his arm out to Hermione, who stood from the sofa and took it gracefully.

They walked in companionable silence through the grounds of the Manor. Rabastan had been told the picnic was near the Rose Gazebo, and so he headed that way, having been there before. Hermione was quietly bemused by the fact that he didn't feel the need to fill the air with his every thought. She liked people who knew how to be quiet.

They reached the area Narcissa had designated for their picnic, which was marked by a blanket that must have had a bug-repellant charm on it. The roses near the gazebo attracted hummingbirds and butterflies, which made the entire picture seem like a fairy-tale.

Hermione tried to stifle the giggle that arose when she saw the scene.

"This amuses you, somehow?" Rabastan was confused.

"It's just so––perfectly romantic. Not a blade of grass out of place on the lawn, the butterflies and hummingbirds flitting around, I just keep waiting for the music to start playing. I hope they aren't serving anything that is supposed to be an aphrodisiac," she said.

Rabastan thought a bit about what she was saying, then smiled. "I see what you are saying. It's a tad obvious. But well-meaning."

"Oh, I know that. They are trying their best. This is fairly benign, really, I've read accounts of worse," she said.

"Accounts?" Rabastan was intrigued.

"The histories of the prior appointees to my position. Some had to deal with love potions, some with compulsion charms, and a fair few with family curses," she said. "All I have to deal with are Malfoys."

Rabastan threw his head back and laughed. "I can appreciate that. But Malfoys are forces of nature, or at least of magic."

Hermione grinned at him. She moved toward the blanket and sat down, patting the space next to her. Rabastan moved to join her.

Six hours later, they made their way back to the Manor, only to be intercepted by Narcissa. "You will stay for dinner, won't you?"

Rabastan looked at Hermione, who nodded. "Yes, we would love to," he said.

They all sat at dinner. Draco looked like he was going to say something, but then jumped as though someone had jabbed him in the ribs. Astoria just looked like a cat who had been served a bowl of cream.

Narcissa was serene as always, leaving Lucius to speak. "It looks as though the meeting went well," he said.

"Quite," said Rabastan.

Hermione said nothing.

For a few long moments, they all enjoyed their rather excellent food, then Lucius loudly put his fork down. "Blast it all! Did you get along? Are you getting married? What the bloody hell does this Longevity project do? And what were you doing for six hours?"

Narcissa put her napkin over her mouth, Astoria stifled a giggle and Draco goggled.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. She looked at Rabastan, and seeing the gleam of humor in his eye, decided to answer Lucius's rather impertinent questions. "We got along swimmingly. I have no idea, we've mostly just met. I have to find a way for him to continue the Lestrange line. And we talked."

After that, dinner and conversation flowed well. Rabastan and Hermione made plans to get together again. Narcissa was pleased.

Over the next few months, Rabastan completed his NEWTs and he and Hermione spent quite a bit of time together.

After one memorable occasion that resulted in Draco soaking wet in a pond, Rabastan asked her to marry him. She accepted.

She entered her office at the Ministry, the morning after she accepted his proposal. She found her boss there.

"Well done, Miss Granger. I always knew you could see the forest for the trees," Miss Steward said.

"I wasn't about to set aside an attraction to an intelligent, handsome, powerful wizard just because the Ministry thought we would make a good match," she said.

"Exactly." Miss Steward nodded decisively. "Your pension is set, you can do as you wish, now. Research, spell creation, anything. And you don't owe anything to the Ministry any longer."

"Is that my reward for a job well done?" Hermione asked.

"Forest for the trees, dear. You were wasted here. But no longer."

"You will be at our engagement ball, won't you?" Hermione smiled.

"I am no one's project, my dear," said Miss Steward, "But I will be there."

Hermione and Rabastan's engagement ball was the social event of the year. As in years past, an invitation to Malfoy Manor was worth its weight in gold. The guest list was widely varied, including the Weasleys, Potters and Longbottoms, as well as Severus Snape and many of the old families.

Hermione glowed. She was wearing a full gown with a sparkling overskirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she was wearing the Lestrange opals. Rabastan was handsome, wearing a dark suit, Muggle in style, complimenting his fiancée perfectly. Many of the singles in the room were jealous of how well they went together.

"Nicely done, Miss Steward," said Severus to his table partner.

"Call me Elizabeth, please," she said. "I hate always being Miss Steward."

"As you wish, Elizabeth. They make a good couple," he said, gesturing toward Hermione and Rabastan with his glass.

"I'm very very good at what I do," she said.

"What exactly do you do?" he asked.

"I am an Arithmancer. I have refined the formulae for the Arithmancy project over the last ten years. I knew it would be needed again," she said.

"Can you tailor your formulae to potions?"

She turned to look at him, his dark eyes were very interested in her answer.

"Yes, of course I can. But couldn't you ask Miss Granger? She's almost as good as I am," she responded. "I do think she will one day either have my position or be in charge of the entire department..." She drifted off, looking at the man who was humoring her, or so she thought.

"She will be a bit busy, and I'm at a critical stage in my potion," he said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"I accept," she said, smiling.

The Minister came over to Hermione and Rabastan, both to give his congratulations and to whisper in Hermione's ear. "You were right, dear. The Princes needed to be continued as well."


End file.
